Continental Divide Quotes

The grief that was so strong it shook like continental shifts, dividing what was now from what was, forcing me to acknowledge that I was going to have to build a life on foreign soil.

Memory is igneous more than ingenious, igneous, and like granite, intrusive, heaved up within oneself, the whole range of one's life, mountains' forbidding height looming over the plains where one lives, mountains formed by the life already lived, but toward which one is always walking, one's own past ahead of him, seeking the improbable path already forged, this path back through oneself, this path we call the present tense, which becomes the continental divide when the tense shifts and the path is lost, path from which the walker emerges only to turn around and see the peaks pulled up by his feet, and the snowy pass, and alpine heights, where those stranded must sometime feed on themselves to survive, where sometimes, through the icy crust, the crocus blooms.

The powerless life raft, sloshing around the North Pacific, emits a vast, spreading plume of steam like that of an Iron Horse chugging full blast over the Continental Divide. Neither Hiro nor Eliot ever mentions, or even notices, the by-now-obvious fact that Fisheye is traveling with a small, self-contained nuclear power source.... As long as Fisheye refuses to notice this fact, it would be rude for them to bring it up.

The AT is no longer the longest hiking trail—the Pacific Crest and Continental Divide trails, both out West, are slightly longer—but it will always be the first and greatest. It has a lot of friends. It deserves them.

I wish that the founders had had the foresight to hang on to and enshrine another one of Independence Hall’s chairs, the one that Benjamin Rush mentioned in a letter to John Adams about how Thomas Jefferson objected when his colleagues in the Continental Congress considered a fast day, which Jefferson pooh-poohed as too religious. Rush reminded Adams, ‘You rose and defended the motion, and in reply to Mr. Jefferson’s objections to Christianity you said you were sorry to hear such sentiments …. You suspected, you told me, that you had offended him, but that he soon convinced you to the contrary by crossing the room and taking a seat in the chair next to you.’ Who knows what happened to that particular chair. … But it might have been a more helpful, sobering symbolic object than that chair with the rising sun. Then perhaps citizens making pilgrimages to Independence Hall could file past the chair Jefferson walked across an aisle to sit in, and we could all ponder the amount of respect, affection, and wishy-washy give-and-take needed to keep a house divided in reasonable repair.

I like to load up on mescaline and turn my amplifier up to 110 decibels for a taste of "White Rabbit" while the sun comes up on the snow-peaks along the Continental Divide. Which is not entirely the point. The world is full of places where a man can run wild on drugs and loud music and firepower -- but not for long.

I like to load up on mescaline and turn my amplifier up to 110 decibels for a taste of "White Rabbit" while the sun comes up on the snow-peaks along the Continental Divide. Which is not entirely the point. The world is full of places where a man can run wild on drugs and loud music and firepower -- but not for long.

We divided the bar of chocolate and tried to console ourselves with Batman, but he was really a bad man. Not only, as the cover had promised, did he climb up the outsides of houses; one of his chief pleasures was evidently to frighten women in their sleep; he could also fly off through the air by spreading out his cloak, taking millions of dollars with him, and his deeds were described in an English such as is taught neither in Continental schools nor in the schools of England and Ireland; Batman was strong and terribly just, but hard, and toward the wicked he could even be cruel, for now and again he would bash in someone’s teeth, a procedure fittingly rendered with the word “Screech.” There was no comfort in Batman.

Most of us are living here because we like the idea of being able to walk out our front doors and smile at what we see. On my own front porch I have a palm tree growing in a blue toilet bowl . . . and on occasion I like to wander outside, stark naked, and fire my .44 Magnum at various gongs I’ve mounted on the nearby hillside. I like to load up on mescaline and turn my amplifier up to 110 decibels for a taste of “White Rabbit” while the sun comes up on the snow-peaks along the Continental Divide. Which is not entirely the point.

We sat around for hours, turning over the mysteries of the universe, giggling like a dorm room full of stoners, all of us seemingly intoxicated by the truffle's powerful pheromones. A new ritual was born, an annual Truffle Fest that stretched on for the better part of a decade across state lines and continental divides. In that time, I've cooked dozens of truffle-larded dishes. Soft scrambled eggs. Scallops and salsify in parchment. Wild mushroom pizza. Butter-bombed risotto. Whole roasted chicken with truffle slices slipped like splinters under the skin. Above all, handmade pasta tossed with melted butter and anointed tableside with truffle- the finest vessel for the tuber's dreamy fragrance.

Philosophy has an image problem. Philosophers are thought to be mystics, religious figures, bullshit artists—anything divorced from reality... Why is philosophy held in such contempt by many physicists? ... one part of the answer probably lies in the split between the two major branches of modern Western philosophy, Analytic and Continental philosophy. Continental philosophers tend to be much more suspicious of scientific claims about knowledge and truth than are their analytic colleagues. Yet the distinction between the two kinds of philosophy is not apparent from a distance—most scientists have never heard of the analytic-Continental divide. So, given that most of the highly visible philosophers in the public sphere today are Continental, and given the attitude that some (not all) Continental philosophers have toward science, it’s not terribly surprising that scientists often have disdain for all philosophers, and sometimes even think that they can do philosophy better than the philosophers can.

Starbucks Training. I had just read a book about habits and one of the most interesting sections in the book was about a guy who worked for Starbucks as a barista. He had a fly-off-the-handle kind of personality and part of his training at Starbucks was to go through exercises simulating how he would react to difficult customers. He anticipated both external and internal problems before they happened and was ready with a response for each one, so when those things happened, it wasn’t the first time he’d thought of how to deal with them.

When India voted, a whole world voted. A whole world – hundreds of millions of people, speaking in a great orchestra of different languages, praying to different gods, living in a continental hugeness that not long ago was divided into hundreds of principalities people driven to centuries of war against each other by rulers seeking conquest, foreigners seeking booty, religious zealots seeking blood, educated people by the millions, illiterate peasants by the scores of millions, from mountains through great stretches of plains to southern seas. On my mind – The World of India (1 December 1989), A. M. Rosenthal

Race and racism are power constructs of the modern world. For roughly two hundred thousand years, before race and racism were constructed in the fifteenth century, humans saw color but did not group the colors into continental races, did not commonly attach negative and positive characteristics to those colors and rank the races to justify racial inequity, to reinforce racist power and policy. Racism is not even six hundred years old. It’s a cancer that we’ve caught early. But racism is one of the fastest-spreading and most fatal cancers humanity has ever known. It is hard to find a place where its cancer cells are not dividing and multiplying. There is nothing I see in our world today, in our history, giving me hope that one day antiracists will win the fight, that one day the flag of antiracism will fly over a world of equity. What gives me hope is a simple truism. Once we lose hope, we are guaranteed to lose. But if we ignore the odds and fight to create an antiracist world, then we give humanity a chance to one day survive, a chance to live in communion, a chance to be forever free.

Panting like a marathon runner at mile twenty, overheated bloodhound, steam engine crawling up the Continental Divide.

Philosophy today faces a dilemma similar to the situation at the end of the eighteenth century. As we are now divided between analytic and continental branches, so philosophy was then split into rationalism and empiricism.

My relationship with thru-hiking has typically been love in hindsight rather than love at first sight.

It was widely believed that Kennedy’s breakthrough to the pinnacle of national power had marked a watershed in Irish-American history, a continental divide on whose broad, grassy forward slope the new breed of assimilated Irishman would henceforth accept the standards and mores of the American consensus.

Come on now, Captain Jim.” (Owner of Simpkin’s General Store) “You know the business of every fly living on a horse’s hind end this side of the Continental Divide.” “If you didn’t see where that little girl was headed,” Mr. McQuaid continued, “then I reckon this town better invest in a telegraph to take your place.

From Alan Thein Duening: Picture North America from space. Look at the upper left and start an imaginary line on the rugged coast of southern Alaska. Climb the ridges that encircle Prince William Sound. Cross the snowy teeth of the Chugach Mountains and descend through kettle-pond country to the feet of the towering Alaska Range. Rise again to the bitter heights and turning southeast along the crest, clip the corner of the Yukon Territory. Enter British Columbia and veer east through its folding north. Turn your line south when you reach the Continental Divide in the Rocky Mountains. Follow the divide down the thousand-mile spine of British Columbia, across Montana, along the buttressed ridges of the Idaho border and into Wyoming as far as Jackson Hole. There, leave the divide and turn westward toward the coast. Following the swells and benches that limit the Columbia Basin, dip southward into Utah and Nevada, then northward again around the high desert of central Oregon. When you approach the Cascade Mountains, veer southwest through the tangled topography of northern California to the crest of the Coast Range. Just north of San Francisco Bay, descend to the shores of the Pacific. The line you have drawn is an unfamiliar one. You won’t find it on maps. But it shows a geographical unit more real, in ecological sense, than any of the lines governments draw. You have drawn a biological region, a bioregion. Specifically, you have outlines the watersheds of rivers flowing into the Pacific Ocean through North America’s temperate rain forest zone with a fifteen-hundred-mile belt of rain forests along the coast. The unity of this diverse bioregion is the movement of its water; every ounce of moisture that the ocean throws into the sky and the sky hurls down on the land inside this region’s borders tumbles toward the rain forest coast. If it does not evaporate or get trapped in underground aquifers along the way, water will reach that dripping shoreline through one of several hundred swift, cold rivers. Most likely, it will travel through the Columbia or the Fraser rivers, home to the Earth’s greatest population of migrating salmon. This place, defined by water running to woodlands, has no perfect name. You can call it Rain Forest Province, the North Pacific Slope, or Cascadia… Natural units of place such as this have always mattered more to people than has humanity in general or the planet in its entirety. Indeed, history is unequivocal; people will sacrifice for villages, homelands, or nations, even giving their lives. But humans seem unwilling to sacrifice for their planet, despite the fact that it is now suffering proportionately greater losses from social decay and environmental destruction than most countries at war.

HIKER GLOSSERY AT- Appalachian Trail - The most populated and most difficult terrain of the three longest trails in the USA Aqua Blazing- Canoeing instead of hiking a section of the trail in the Shenandoahs. Bear Cables- A system to easily hang up food bags. Bear bagging- Hanging food up high in a tree. Bivy Sack- A lightweight waterproof shelter that has bad condensation Blow Down- A fallen tree or limb blocking the trail Blue Blazer- A hiker that takes short cut trails or more scenic trails that lead back to the main trail Bushwhack- To hike where there is no trail /to clear a trail with a machete. CDT- The Continental Divide Trail - The most secluded and least populated of the three longest US trails. Cowboy Camping- to sleep on the ground with no shelter Cairn- Pile of rocks to depict where the trail is located when above treeline Day Hiker- Usually a novice who is out for the day or several days. DEET- A heavy duty bug spray. Drop Box- Food or gear sent by mail. Five Fingers - Shoes with toes. Flip-Flopper- A thru-hiker who hikes one way, then skips ahead to hike the opposite direction Gators- A piece of gear worn around the ankle to keep dirt from entering shoes Giardia- Parasites that cause diarrhea from drinking unclean water.

a frozen pizza cooking in the oven, filling the kitchen with the tantalizing smell of melted cheese and sizzling pepperoni. Six beers cool in the fridge. A map of Glacier National Park is spread on the table, accompanied by sheets of paper filled with scribbled notes and calculations. Sitting around all day is not healthy for any human, but it is certainly not healthy for thru-hikers. After spending the day brainstorming possibilities, sharing ideas, and speaking our desire to finish the hike, Koozie and I decide to get all logistics down on paper. During our most recent conversation, we were both moved to tears expressing how important hiking this trail is and what it means for us. Working for 5 months toward this goal, only to be halted 75 miles from the finish, is an insult to the previous 2,460 miles hiked and every sacrifice made to get to this point. Our determination is not to be doubted, but our finish-vision can easily get us into trouble that would be better to avoid.

precisely because each state was sovereign, and precisely because a strong union was necessary if states were to survive and thrive, a strong majority of these sovereign states should be free to reunite in a different way. Rather than creating another rope of sand—another mere treaty or league or confederation—the states should combine to form a new continental people under a new continental Constitution. In that new Constitution, each state could no longer be fully “sovereign,” as it had been between 1776 and 1787. The consenting states would need to merge into a new, larger, Westphalian nation-state, much as the separate kingdoms of Scotland and England had merged eighty years earlier to form—this was the key phrase in 1707—“an entire and perfect union.”5 Scotland and England had entered this merger for geostrategic reasons: the British snake would be easier to defend if not divided in two. Four score years later, America would need to do something similar for similar reasons.

Hannah Arendt was right that genocide had to be linked to race ideology and bureaucratic efficiency if it was to be brought within the realm of comprehension. But she was mistaken in thinking that race was a singular South African, Boer, discovery. Had she added to the list of imperial horrors the genocide of the Amerindians and the centuries-long trans-Atlantic slave trade, she would have come to a different conclusion. For the nurturing ground of scientific racism was not as much the Boer experience in South Africa as the imperial encounter with continental Africa. The trans-Atlantic slave trade racialized notions of Africa. It fueled the conceptual tendency to divide Africa in two: that above the Sahara and that below it. From a bridge that had for centuries facilitated a regular flow of trading camel caravans between civilizations to its north and south, the Sahara was now seen as the opposite: a great civilizational barrier below which lay a land perpetually quarantined, “Negro Africa.” “True” Africa, “real” Africa, was now seen as identical with tropical (“sub-Saharan”) Africa geographically and Negro (“Bantu”) Africa socially.

It was two packets of powdered “Breakfast Essentials” (strawberry in my case), two packets of “Apple Cinnamon Oatmeal,” and a little less than a liter of water mixed in.

From above—though it would be decades, yet, before satellites and space travel would show the world this way—the Colorado River’s watershed looks like a ragged, many-veined leaf, its stem planted firmly in the Gulf of California. In a wetter climate it might be invisible, hidden by the canopies of trees and overhanging banks of flowers and ferns. But here, in the American Southwest, the river carves and folds the landscape around it as if water holds a weight not measured in ounces. Its headwaters begin in the Wind River Range of Wyoming, a jumbled stretch of the Rocky Mountains, where cold rivulets of snowmelt wake beneath ice each spring to surge into a thunderous rush and pour into the Green River. Jotter and her companions had floated a placid stretch of the Green, 120 miles through the red rock of Utah, where the river loops and doubles back like a dawdling tourist in no hurry to reach the next vista. Earlier that day, they had reached the confluence where the Green joined another tributary known, until not long before, as the Grand. It, too, draws its headwaters from Rocky Mountains west of the Continental Divide. The Grand was shorter than the Green, but it had won the affections of a Colorado congressman named Edward Taylor. In 1921 he successfully lobbied to rename the smaller tributary after its main channel: the Colorado River. “The Grand is the father and the Green the mother, and Colorado wants the name to follow the father,” Taylor said in his persuasive speech to the U.S. House of Representatives, adding as further evidence that the Grand was a much more treacherous river than the Green, killing anyone who tried to raft it.

Wherever we stop is the summit. Iwas climbing Trail Ridge Road through the Rocky Mountains, determined to make the Continental Divide, when two sharp feelings pierced me almost at once. I, who have never had any trouble with heights, felt rushes of fear as I drove on narrow stretches 12,000 feet up. I was also filled with the irrevocable truth that everything-there-is is wherever we are. This all made me stop and walk the tundra above the treeline. There, I was overcome with the sudden truth that I could go no farther, and that I had no need to go any farther. Can it be that this journey through the mountains mirrors the journey through our lives? Is our suffering like the dizzying, gut-wrenching narrow passes through these ancient rocks? Do we simply move on until we can't, and in accepting our humanity, does the peak come to us? What an unlikely truth. I traveled as far as I could manage, and there on the bare scalp of the Earth, I realized that where I can go no further is my destination. This is the wearing of heart that no one can escape. Despite all our noble efforts to reach some treasured peak—be it a dream of wealth or love—we carry the summit within. And it is always the effort and exhaustion—the very journey itself—that opens the view which is everywhere. For the summit is not so much arrived at as we are worn open to it. I felt the truth of arriving at wherever my human limitations had left me, knew somehow it was enough, and I let out a cry like a vapor. We are as bare as these crags being worn by endless wind, and, regardless of the maps we carefully draw and pass down, we arrive at what we've always had when we use up everything we've saved. In this way we are brought to humility. Once accepting our frail humanity, we can see how stubbornly fragile living things are. We can see how it takes just a thin lick of water down a mountain crack to strengthen a root and a bare lick of love through our stony hearts to blossom a soul.

He told his Continental Divide stories in a seemingly light-hearted, slightly poetical mood such as reporters often use in writing 'human-interest' stories, but, if the mood were removed, his stories would appear as something about him that would not meet the approval of his family and that I would probably find out about in time anyway. He also must have felt honor-bound to tell me he lived other lives, even if he presented them to me as puzzles in the form of funny stories. Often I did not know what I had been told about him as we crossed the divide between our two worlds.

Be careful of going with the flow too much. You have control of your life, make sure to nudge it in the right direction.

The trail continues west toward the Continental Divide. Cross FS Rd 427 at mile 4.4 (10,161) and Deadman Creek on a bridge at mile 4.5 (10,164). At mile 5.0 (10,180) cross a small stream and continue on the trail as it turns left. Gain a saddle and pass through a Forest Service gate at mile 5.2 (10,262). Cross Jefferson Lake Road at mile 5.9 (10,014) and Jefferson Creek at mile 6.0 (9,975). At mile 6.1 (9,986) there is an intersection. Take a right on the West Jefferson Trail for 0.1 mile, then go left at the fork at mile 6.2 (9,983). From here, the climb to Georgia Pass begins. At mile 7.8 (10,699), the CT intersects the Michigan Creek Trail. Stay to the right. After the trail leaves a subalpine fir forest and emerges above tree line, pass the Jefferson Creek Trail on the right at mile 11.7 (11,667) and cross a jeep road at mile 12.1 (11,838). Be aware of changing weather patterns when above tree line. Reach the top of Georgia Pass and the Continental Divide at mile 12.3 (11,874). Descend in a northerly direction. Reach Glacier Creek Road at mile 12.5 (11,798). This is the point where users first encounter the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail, which comes in from the north. The CT and CDNST are co-located for the next 314 miles (including along the CT Collegiate West) and into Segment 24 where the two trails diverge. Cross the road and descend on single-track as it turns right. After entering the trees, cross an ATV trail at mile 15.4 (11,135). Keep descending, passing a pond,

Any one moment could be like this, I thought. A continental divide.

​On August 13th I hiked into one of my favorite places on earth: The Wind River Range. Nothing else I have come across in all my travels thus far has left an impression on me quite like this mountain range. Never have I been moved to tears so many times by a simple landscape, than in Wind River. How a place so beautiful can exist, while still affording seemingly infinite space and solitude to utterly lose yourself (within and without), is beyond me.

Though continental division and shifting in the days of Peleg appears feasible from a superficial reading of Genesis 10:25 in isolation, this concept has some major problems associated with it: 1. When Genesis 10:25 is read within the context of the whole of Genesis 10, the four other verses (5, 18, 20, and 32) speaking of the division clearly emphasize that this was a linguistic and family division of all post-Flood people into different lands (geographical locations). 2. Had the division of continents occurred during the days of Peleg, then the associated catastrophism would have resulted in another worldwide Flood, in violation of God's specific promise to Noah. 3. Had the division of continents occurred during the days of Peleg, then the ark (with Peleg's ancestors) would have had no place to land, as the mountains of Ararat produced by continental collisions would not have yet existed. 4. There is tremendous fossil and geologic evidence for continental division having occurred only during the Flood. We, therefore, gently and lovingly encourage our brothers and sisters in Christ to refrain from claiming the division of continents occurred during the days of Peleg. The phrase "for in his days the earth was divided" in Genesis 10:25 needs to be kept and read within its context of Genesis 10 to give the statement its correct meaning.

considering

One of the characteristics of oppressive cultural action which is almost never perceived by the dedicated but naïve professionals who are involved is the emphasis on a focalized view of problems rather than on seeing them as dimensions of a totality. In “community development” projects the more a region or area is broken down into “local communities,” without the study of these communities both as totalities in themselves and as parts of another totality (the area, region, and so forth)—which in its turn is part of a still larger totality (the nation, as part of the continental totality)—the more alienation is intensified. And the more alienated people are, the easier it is to divide them and keep them divided. These focalized forms of action, by intensifying the focalized way of life of the oppressed (especially in rural areas), hamper the oppressed from perceiving reality critically and keep them isolated from the problems of oppressed women and men in other areas.

By midmorning they were within Oakwald Forest, the wood that surrounded Endovier and served as a continental divide between the “civilized” countries of the East and the uncharted lands of the West. Legends were still told of the strange and deadly people who dwelt there—the cruel and bloodthirsty descendents of the fallen Witch Kingdom.